Adri was jealous as fuck.
Iris had suspected as much when she and Stevie had run into Adri at Bitch’s last week, but now she was positive. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about it, or how Stevie would feel once she figured out what Adri was doing. Iris didn’t want to point it out, more because it was possible she’d read the entire situation wrong and didn’t want to cause Stevie any more anxiety than necessary. Iris didn’t know Adri. She barely knew Stevie. Hell, maybe this was all some big cosmic plot to get the two of them back together.
They’d been together for six years.
Iris hadn’t had anything for six years. A plant, maybe. She was good with succulents. Even her business, successful as it was, had only lasted around five years by the time she’d really gotten it up and running and pulling a profit. So, maybe Iris was just paving the way for a reconciliation.
Which was fine.
Iris looked at Stevie, whose mouth was parted slightly as her gaze trailed down Iris’s form and back up to her face. Stevie swallowed hard, and goose bumps broke out all over Iris’s body, just from Stevie’s simple observation.
Iris pressed her thighs together.
Practice, she told herself. Fake. They didn’t want to muddy with the waters with earnest fucking, even if that earnestness meant nothing but an active libido.
“Yeah,” Stevie said, looking away. “That’ll do.”
Iris smiled. “Let’s get this show on the road, then.”
IRIS WAS PRETTY sure she’d never been anywhere she would describe as paradise.
Until now.
They spent the afternoon swimming in the infinity pool, which sparkled like a fountain of youth, all with the Pacific crashing onto the beach below. Iris was never without a beverage in her hand, first mimosas with a poolside lunch of fruit and cheese and fancy crackers, then Aperol spritzes in the afternoon. She drank a ton of water too—no need to get sloppy drunk and let something slip.
Iris used the time to study Adri, who, Iris discovered, had a tiny heart tattoo at the base of her throat that matched Stevie’s. So there was that. She was also beautiful, smart, and always had a hand on Vanessa. A kiss here, a waist-squeeze there. But her eyes followed Stevie, and Iris didn’t think she was the only one who noticed.
More than once, Iris caught Ren—Stevie’s chic friend from Lush who helped with the Empress’s costumes—watching Adri too. Vanessa didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t show it. Stevie was also clueless, or so it seemed. Iris made sure to stay close to her. She didn’t want to paw at her—that felt a bit creepy, to be honest—so she let Stevie lead the way in terms of physical affection.
Which wasn’t very much at all. Stevie sipped her club soda with lime, laughed with her friends and Iris, got into an in-depth discussion with Adri while they were in the hot tub about ways to shift Benedick into more of an arrogant ass as opposed to an arrogant misogynistic ass. They talked about the other roles, how the Dons were both played by women, how two gay men—one of them trans—played Hero and Claudio, and the adjustments Adri had made to the script to accommodate all the glorious queerness, which included they/them pronouns for an agender actor playing Leonato. Meanwhile, Iris sat next to Stevie, waiting for Stevie to put her arm around her shoulder, to rub her knee or kiss her cheek, something to show their togetherness in front of Adri.
But Stevie never did any of that.
Which was fine. This was Stevie’s show; Iris was just here for support.
Still, by the time they’d all showered and dressed for dinner, Iris was grumpy. Too much sun and alcohol, most likely, and she was ravenous. That cheese hadn’t lasted long, and she was definitely the kind of person her friends tended to avoid when she was hungry—or feed immediately.
She sat down at the expansive driftwood table and thanked all the gods that there was a bread basket already present. Candles were set out along the sideboard, and a modern, branch-shaped chandelier glowed above them. She tore a hunk out of the warm brown bread as Vanessa emerged from the kitchen with a giant dish of lasagna, followed by Adri and a bowl filled with leafy green salad.
“We went simple tonight,” Vanessa said. “Hope that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect,” Iris said, accepting a glass of red wine from Ren.
“So, Iris,” Adri said once they all had full plates and were cutting into their food. “What do you do when you’re not taking the community theater world by storm?”
Iris smiled. “I’m a romance author. And I have a line of digital planners I sell through an Etsy shop called Paper Wishes.”
“A renaissance woman,” Vanessa said. “Would we know any of your books?”
“Stevie loves romance,” Adri said, her eyes on Stevie.
“I know,” Iris said, and shit, she just could not resist taking Stevie’s free hand, then leaning over to kiss her cheek. Stevie laughed softly, meeting Iris’s eyes briefly before taking her hand back.
“And no, Vanessa, you probably wouldn’t know my books yet,” Iris said, ripping another piece of bread in half.
“Not very popular?” Adri asked.
“Babe,” Vanessa said.
“What?”
“Subtle as always, A,” Ren said.
Stevie cleared her throat but said nothing.
“I haven’t published yet,” Iris said, keeping her eyes on Adri. “My first book comes out in October.”
“Oh, that’s exciting,” Van said. “Congrats.”
Iris tipped her glass at her. “I hope you’ll all come to the launch party in Bright Falls.”
Adri’s gaze flicked to Stevie then back to Iris. “If you still want us to by then, I’m sure we will.”
Silence spilled over the table, her insinuation like a finger snuffing out a flame. Iris was trying to figure out how to play this—Adri was her director after all, and this passive aggression seemed to be the way she was planning to interact with Iris. She’d just decided that a change of subject was the best course of action when Adri went on.
“Stevie’s special, you know,” Adri said.
“Adri,” Stevie said.
“What? You are. You’re a gifted actor, Stevie, but you’re sensitive. I just want to make sure Iris here knows that.”
“I can tell her just how sensitive I am myself.”
“Can you?”
“Adri, what are you doing?” Vanessa asked. Her brows were furrowed, eyes glistening in the dim light.
Adri sighed and let her fork clatter to her plate. “I’m looking out for our friend. Is that a crime?”
“Stevie can look after herself,” Ren said.
“Except Stevie struggles with that, Ren,” Adri said. “Always has. You know she does. And I’m sorry, I’m happy Stevie has found someone, and Iris, you seem amazing, truly, but you’re not exactly a gentle person. At least from what I’ve seen. I’m just looking out for her. Stevie is—”
“Stevie is right fucking here.”
Stevie’s voice cut through Adri’s soliloquy. She stared at Adri, but not with vitriol like Iris expected—like Iris sort of wanted, if she was being honest—but with wonder.
“Excuse me,” Stevie said, then got up from the table and disappeared out the back door toward the beach.
Iris picked up her wine and took a sip, glaring at Adri as she did so. Fuck the fact that Adri was essentially her boss for the play. It was too late to replace her as Beatrice anyway.
“Well,” Ren said. “Dessert anyone?”
Vanessa tossed her napkin on her plate and rose, then walked off down the hall without another word to anyone.
“Jesus, Adri,” Ren said.
“Oh, fuck off, Ren,” Adri said. “You have no idea what it’s like to be with someone for six years. All that care and concern doesn’t just go away, okay?”
“Sure as hell seemed like it all went away when you started fucking Van two months after the breakup.”